


And Now For Something Completely Different

by wyluliwerewolf



Category: Monty Python's Flying Circus, Trigun
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Philosophical Debate - Freeform, these boys suck at talking about things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26898511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyluliwerewolf/pseuds/wyluliwerewolf
Summary: This fanfic is literally an excuse to write about Monty Python’s Philosopher’s Football Game. You’ve been warned.Set between Trigun anime episodes 18-19, possibly with manga influences.Thank you for beta reading, TiggyMalvern!
Relationships: Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	And Now For Something Completely Different

They were arguing again. Same old debate. Same sticky floors and cheap alcohol that tasted like it was meant for cars, not people. There was something comforting about it.

Vash looked distantly into his cup, and remarked, “There was this video I saw as a kid, from Old Earth. From a comedy group, Morty Python or something.” [1]

“Silly name,” Wolfwood said, pretending that he wasn’t eager to hear about the plant’s childhood. Maybe he’d even hear something that would help them against Knives.

Vash shrugged in reply. “There was a group of famous philosophers from Ancient Greece and a group of famous philosophers from Germany, the best philosophers of Old Earth. They decided to play a game of soccer. You know what soccer is, right?” Wolfwood had noticed Vash seemed a little unsure what about Old Earth was still known, and what wasn’t, and asked every time something came up, just in case.

“That old Earth game where you kick a ball into a net? Yeah, they still play a version of that here.” We played it all the time in the orphanage, he didn’t say.

Vash nodded. “So there they are, walking around the field aimlessly. Doing nothing but looking down and thinking and muttering to themselves. You watch them for several minutes, and you keep thinking, ‘are they ever going to figure out how to play, or are they just gonna think about it forever?’ Then suddenly, one of the Greek philosophers yells “Eureka!’ and kicks the ball. Then his team gets the idea. They start running and passing it to each other and eventually score, while the German philosophers are still wandering around thinking. So the Greek philosophers win the game.”

“Imagine if they’d been playing against a real soccer team,” Wolfwood chuckled.

“Mhmm. Rem used to say when we…when I got too lost in thought sometimes, ‘Remember to kick the ball.’” Vash trailed off, looking wistful.

“Sounds like good advice. You should take it more often,” Wolfwood teased. He wanted to hear more, but almost despite himself, he was going back to familiar, less personal territory.

Vash chuckled for a moment, then looked down at his drink again, sadly.

“So I see what you mean,” he said, quietly. “I really do. The trouble is…” He sighed. “Life isn’t a soccer game.”

“Damn right,” Wolfwood agreed, slamming his cup on the bar for emphasis. “There’s no rules or referees or anything. It’s a disaster.” Where was this argument going? He had a feeling he was agreeing to something he was gonna regret.

“That’s exactly it. If there’s no rules, how can I give anyone a penalty or kick them out of the game? How do I even know what someone should get a penalty for doing?”

Oh, this argument again. Of course. “Come on, anyone can see that if one of the players starts killing the other team, there’s not gonna be a game of soccer much longer. You don’t need rules to see that.”

“No, but who’s going to stop the player? And how? What if everyone in the audience just attacks the player who’s doing the killing? Or what if everyone on both teams starts trying to kill each other? You won’t have a game then, either.”

“People who know soccer and have the power to stop them.” People like you and me, Wolfwood didn’t need to say.

“That certainly isn’t me. What if…I think that player is trying to pull a gun out of his pocket to shoot someone on the other team and he really was looking for, I dunno, his handkerchief? Okay, that’s stupid, I wouldn’t do that, but I could make the wrong choice. And if there’s no rules, how would I ever know?”

“If anyone knows, you would,” Wolfwood replied before he could regret it.

Vash sighed. “If anyone blew up the entire game and everyone in it, I would.”

Wolfwood rushed to change the subject, before Vash could descend into brooding. “Okay, forget I said anything. It was a bad metaphor anyway. Did those Morty Python guys do any other videos?”

Vash grinned widely and impishly. “So many. There’s one about a Ministry of Silly Walks,” he began, getting up from his barstool… [2]

**Author's Note:**

> [1] It’s been well over 100 years. Give him a break.
> 
> [2] Vash could do a Minister of Silly Walks to rival John Cleese. Wish I had the art skills to draw this!


End file.
